“Of course! You and Tirad don’t have the guts to do such things! You are too weak and naïve. Don’t worry! Everyone is meant for something… You were made to clean up other peoples’ filths and Tirad… Well… He is good for nothing! Except to be a good pawn, a poor plaything,” Mart says grinning. He laughs and orders the soldiers to arrest her and take her out with them. Lealy resists. He won’t bring her feasted hands in front of her and she won’t get up. Mart leaps towards her and kicks her in her side. Lealy tries to keep her balance; she brings her hands out and takes out the cork with her teeth. She drinks up the whole bottle before Mart kicks it off her hand. The black bottle rolls down and stops by the trunk.

“What was that? Huh?” Mart shouts with rage. But Lealy doesn’t say a word. She feels the poison liquid sliding down her throat to her gullet, making way to her stomach. Mart sits on the floor and tries to bend Lealy’s neck so that she would throw up. But Lealy slides through Mart’s hands and falls on the floor. Mart gets up and furiously looks at the shelves filled with many bottles and tin boxes. He orders the soldiers to go and fetch one of the arrested healers. But Lealy knows it’s already too late. The pains in her stomach are spreading throughout her limps. She will go to seizure soon, trembling and foaming in her mouth. She wishes she could grin at Mart before she goes completely livid, her breath goes out and her heart stops. Perhaps Tirad was a good pawn but she didn’t let him play with her, not anymore. This victory, even though bitter with the taste of poison, makes her happy and if she still had the control of her lips, she would laugh at Mart. She doesn’t hear, see or feel anything anymore. She can’t feel Mart kicking her livid body nor hear him cursing and shouting aloud. She has her last dream before her eternal sleep: she sees the image of Hurmaz, hand in hand with Armina, waiting for her to join them.